


I'll Sing You All the Lullabies (they never sang for me)

by BlackEyedGirl



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Awesome Ladies Ficathon, Ficlet, Gen, Past Non-Con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 10:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackEyedGirl/pseuds/BlackEyedGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elle meets Hotch in a bar, sometime past 5.11. Implied past assault and violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Sing You All the Lullabies (they never sang for me)

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Awesome Ladies Ficathon](http://ineffort.livejournal.com/199061.html) for the prompt: _A lonely spell to conjure you / But conjure hell is all I do_

She lifts the phone and says just this: "Hotch."

He says, "Elle. Where are you?" Needs nothing more.

And it's just like before, her half-hating herself for needing him to answer the call, half-hating him for not asking questions. But she had needed it – she can only do so much alone. She braces herself for the sight of him, his disappointment and her echoing groundless guilt.

He meets her in a bar she hadn't visited since she left them. It all stops when she sees her reflection in his eyes. Hotch had always been still beneath it all; he had all of the perspective she seemed to lack. Elle had resented that once. Now she sees the sharp lines where once he had been closed smooth. She catches her breath. She doesn't mean to say, "I didn't want this."

He frowns. Still thinking he has to be responsible for her – he's still here, though she walked away from his steadying arm years ago now. He says, "What do you mean? You called me, Elle."

"I know," she says. She stands, feeling the old shift of leather over her shoulders, guns she isn't wearing today but wishes she was. I'll wind myself up, she thinks, and you can watch me go. She says, "I know. But Hotch, you should have called _me_."

He says something that might be sorry; she smothers it with her body up against his, her cheek against his mouth.

"Don't be," she whispers, half a song. Brace yourself for one set of ghosts and meet another. She settles her hand on his back and breathes out slowly. "Sssh. It's okay. We can just sit here. We don't have to talk yet." She stands there and holds him. (She knows she can take it. She built herself up.)


End file.
